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And neither can I stop my pussy from clenching, opening and closing like a mouth. “No.”
Zach rubs our lips together. “Wet. I’ll find it wet. And swollen and slippery and fucking horny.”
Slippery.
I’m slippery.
I can feel it. The moisture, sticking to my panties.
“I can smell you from here. Your pussy’s wet, Blue. She’s so fucking wet. She’s leaking. For me. She wants me. She doesn’t hate me, does she?” he says, pouring his words down my throat, jamming it with them.
He’s right.
He is.
I can smell myself too. I smell spicy and musky, just like my name.
And then, I see myself.
Sprawled around him. My dress is hiked up to the tops of my thighs, my pale skin is glistening under the light. I’m holding on to his shoulders like he’s going to save me from everything bad in the world.
When he is everything bad in the world.
In my world. Him.
But what shocks me more than anything is that he’s… hard. His dick is hard and it’s pressed up against the most intimate part of me.
The bulge in his jeans is right up at my wet panties and I like the weight of it, the heat of it.
“I don’t. I don’t… want to…”
Finally, Zach stops and looks into my eyes and a tear breaks free, streaming down my cheek.
His thumb wipes off that tear with such tenderness that a few more shake loose and follow its path.
“You don’t wanna feel this way, do you?”
I shake my head. “No. Not for you. N-not for someone who…” I swallow as the words rip out from somewhere very, very deep inside of me. “Someone who makes me hate. Someone who doesn’t let me move on and let go. You change me. I don’t know how you do that but you change me into a worse version of myself.”
Something goes off in my chest, then. A bomb of memories.
Memories of that night three years ago when I said all sorts of things to him: the prom night.
You know how in love, you become a better person? You make me a worse person, Zach. I’ve never hated anyone the way I hate you. You’re nothing but a big, fucking bully. That’s all you’ll ever be. I’ll never forgive you for what you did tonight. For all the things you’ve done before. I’ll hate you till the day I die…
Zach breathes through his nose, clenching his teeth. “Yeah. I do, don’t I? So next time when I tell you to stay away from me, you do that. If I look at you, you look the other way. If you see me walking down the corridor, turn around and take a different route. Because the next time I see you in front of me, I’ll take it as an invitation. If you keep throwing yourself at me, I’ll snatch you up. And I’ll make you pay for it on your goddamn back.”
Zach rips his touch away and steps back.
I snap my thighs closed and jump down from the counter. My tears won’t stop falling and the last thing I see is the agitated plow of his hand through his hair.
Then, I’m running away from him. From his room. From the place he grew up in. The place with seven towers and a glass window that you can see the stars through.
I tear open all my bandaged wounds as I run and run. For miles and hours. Until I reach the house that I grew up in.
I make my way in through an open window in the kitchen and climb the rickety stairs up to my room.
Then I curl up on the floor and sob.
